Drawing apart
by Happymood
Summary: So it was a shock when one day Spain woke up to the sudden realization that he had fallen out of love with Romano. Oneshot. Past!Spamano Please R


_A.N. After so many fics of them falling in love with each other, I decided to try something new. This oneshot was inspired a lot by the final Euro match between Spain and Italy, even if it doesn't look a lot like it. So, tell me what you thought about it! :) _

Spain had known South Italy since… forever, he could say, even if it wasn't exactly accurate. Surely it had felt like forever, and Spain sometimes forgot that South Italy had been nothing to him before he became his boss. It was difficult now to imagine his life without Romano, and pretending Romano didn't exist was out of the question.

Spain had been Romano's boss, and then, when Romano finally gained his independence, had become Romano's friend. Sometimes, though, when war or nasty stuff was going on, Spain was nothing but Romano's acquaintance. Either way, at some point in time, Spain realized that he was desperately in love with that always swearing Italian boy. He didn't remember if he realized so when he was Romano's boss or friend or acquaintance, but whenever that happened, Spain had honestly believed that he was an idiot for falling in love with the most antisocial, selfish, scowling nation that existed on Earth.

It wasn't like he hadn't tried to tell Romano so, but Romano had only laughed at his advances, had scowled when Spain had repeatedly tried to tell him how handsome he was to him, and had head-butted him when Spain couldn't see that Romano was trying _hard _to tell him that, yeah, I love you too.

The world didn't make their relationship very easy, and they mostly never saw each other for long. It was only after Spain's dictator was dead, that they managed, step by step, to start a real relationship together. A relationship where the word 'nation' didn't indicate what they were or what they represented. A relationship where they were just two human beings that wanted to spend their lives together.

Romano remained his antisocial self, too much of an introvert to openly show his emotions to Spain, but the latter managed to get used to it, as Romano tried to get used to the fact there was more to Spain's character than it met the eye.

At first it had been wonderful. No matter the difficulties, no matter how different they were, no matter the problems they had to solve with their people and all the sacrifices they were making, everything looked like it had been worth it in the end. They had waited a lifetime to be together, to kiss each other pain away, and to hold each other hand in the darkness.

So, it was a shock, when one day Spain woke up to the sudden realization that…

"I have fallen out of love with Romano."

He didn't know why it happened. It was an irrational thought as "I love you" had been. Spain, though, could understand how it happened. It happened slowly over the time, when they suddenly realized that they both had things running circles in their heads that the other shouldn't know. It happened when Romano slowly stopped being so clingy, or when Spain stopped smiling so often when Romano was around. Soon Romano stopped needing him, and Spain didn't find comfort in holding Romano close anymore.

"I am going-"

"Yes, see you later…"

Or.

"Maybe we should…?"

"No. Leave me alone."

And then it could only go worse, because Romano easily got angry, while Spain snapped at unexpected times, and when that happened everything would only go downhill and words hurt more than knifes could.

And then their economy got worse, and worse became their temperament, until it reached a point where they couldn't stand each other anymore.

Friends asked:

"What drew you apart? You were so close!"

The perfect relationship. They complemented each other. Spain could calm Romano down when no one could, and Romano managed to get out the best of Spain when no one dared. They knew each other. They wanted each other.

And, suddenly, it was over.

As nations they remained close, as humans they ignored each other, up to the point Spain didn't feel anything at all when Romano started crying that day in the final match.

"I understand you wanted to be a fucking champion for three times straight! But did you have to humiliate me _that much_?"

And Spain would feel nothing as Romano cried, just felt a pang of regret as soon as he saw the way North Italy looked at him.

"Congratulations, Spain." North Italy had said. He too was sad about the finals, he too was ready to cry, but there was anger in the younger Vargas' eyes that Spain was sure wasn't because of football. Nevertheless, Spain was too happy to care: he deserved to win.

(Of course, Romano didn't deserve to be humiliated.)

"I don't love you anymore, Romano." Spain had said.

"Yes, I know." Romano had retorted, "I always wondered why you fell in love with me in the first place, really."

"You deserve to be loved."

"But not by you."

"But not by me."

"Why did you fell in love with me?"

"I don't know." Spain had said, "You call me bastard, but the real bastard is you sometimes. You talk bad about your brother, about me, about half of the world, really. You swear. You hate everyone. You make everyone's life, _my life_, a living hell. You like to use your fists too much sometimes. You snort when someone, when _I_ compliment you. You are lazy. You never say what it's on your mind. You have so many bad qualities. You don't believe in yourself at all. You always think you are not worth it. You don't smile as often as you should. You don't understand when someone loves you deeply. You don't understand how _anyone_ can love you. You don't understand you are beautiful. You don't see _me_. But, nevertheless, falling in love with you made me feel alive."

Spain suddenly remembered the things he had told Romano months ago, and now looked at him trying to wipe his tears away with his shirt. He smiled a little, remembering all the good times they spent together, and then left along with his children.


End file.
